I Am Imperfect, But Loved by a Perfect God

Lately, I've been having one of those seasons. The kind where I'm struggling--daily--to fight the urge to feel worried or stressed. I'm in a constant state of flight or fight. And each day I awake to a greater trial than the one before.

Yeah, that kind of season.

I'm weary. I'm worn out. I'm exhausted. I don't feel like myself. I'm more agitated than usual. And my internal reserve of resources--encouragement, joy, patience, love--is drying up.

It's seasons like these that show me just how imperfect I really am.

God spells it out for me in the Bible:

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:2-4

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" Matthew 6:25-27

These three verses immediately come to mind when I begin to think about my trials. God brings these three verses to the forefront of my mind when I begin to worry or stress. So, why am I so quick to not trust in God's Word?

Because I'm imperfect. I'm human. I think I am capable of handling things on my own when the truth is that I am loved unconditionally by a perfect God who cares about every detail of my day, even the small things.

I'm quick to forget, but God is quick to remind--his grace is sufficient for me. He loves me. He cares about my trials.

This season will pass. And when it does, I'm grateful God is using it to teach me, once again, that I am nothing without him.

I am imperfect, but loved by a perfect God.

--Jessica

The Things We Could Accomplish If We Respected One Another

Respect (noun)
: a feeling of admiring someone or something that is good, valuable, important, etc.
: a feeling or understanding that someone or something is important, serious, etc., and should be treated in an appropriate way
: a particular way of thinking about or looking at something

Caring about each other has become a lost art. This notion that if we love one another--truly love one another--then we respect each other.

You know what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about the man who walked through the door in front of the woman whose arms were full and just let it shut behind him.

I'm talking about the woman who stole her best friend's husband when she knew they were going through a rough patch.

I'm talking about the teenagers who cut the older gentleman in line because he was holding them up. 

I'm talking about the daughter-in-law who doesn't like the way her mother-in-law treats her and refuses to step foot in her house.

The list could go on and on. I have a hundred different examples of how we disrespect each other on a daily basis. And I can't help but wonder, what could we accomplish if we respected one another?

What if we did hold the door open for one another? What if we respected each others' marriages? What if we loved on the older people we come into contact with? What if we let offenses go and approached each other with an attitude of gratitude?

We could accomplish a lot.

We could raise children who love helping one another.

We could encourage the restoration of marriages and decrease the amount of divorces.

We could fill the empty, lonely houses of the elderly with life and laughter.

We could offer love and compassion to the people in our lives who desperately need it.

We could accomplish a lot if we respected one another like we used to.

So, thank the person who held the door open for you. Be good to your friends. Love all people of every age, class, religion, ethnicity. And approach everyone you know--and meet--with respect whether it's deserved or not.

The things we could accomplish if we respected one another are endless.

--Jessica

My Take On Mean Girls: Stop Competing!

A black stretch limo arrived in front of the elementary school. I stood off to the side--proudly--with the five other girls in my class not invited to the birthday festivities of a self-professed 4th grade "popular" girl.

They didn't have a term for it in 1999, but the blond-haired girl that popped her head out of limo and sneered at me as it drove by was my very first 'frenemy'.

Depending on what suited her agenda, she might ask me to spend recess walking through the crowded playground with her and her devoted groupies. Generally, I turned her offer down. I knew her ulterior motives. She wanted to spend 20 minutes of her day picking on someone and I was always an easy target. My clothes were purchased from the thrift store, I was sensitive and extremely gullible.

Other times, she wanted to use me to get something she couldn't obtain on her own. Mainly good grades. She could turn on the charm while trying to win me over. It never worked. I may have been gullible, but I knew when someone was treating me poorly. I give her all the credit for teaching me the power of saying the word, "No."

I was not invited to her birthday party in the 4th grade because I told one of her groupies--who also happened to be just another target for her cruel games--that I didn't like the ring leader of the "popular" crowd. She ran back to the Queen Bee and told her everything I said.

Later that day, as I was eating lunch with a group of boys I played basketball with, Queen Bee walked over to where I sat and crossed her arms.

"So-and-so said you don't like me. Did you really say that?" she snarled.

"Yes, I did," I replied as I took a big bite out of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Why don't you like me?"

"Because you're mean to everyone," I bluntly stated.

"You're not invited to my birthday party!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

I shrugged and finished my peanut butter and jelly while she spent the better part of the day obsessing over the fact that someone she didn't like, did not like her. Then it became her sole mission in life to make sure everyone else didn't like me either.

And so it began...

I've come into contact with thousands of women over the years. And I always seem to run into a few self-proclaimed popular girls who have grown up into, for lack of a better word, mean girls. They'll be nice to my face then immediately turn around and attempt to turn everyone they know against me. I've just never understood that. I've never understood this idea that we--as women--are supposed to constantly compete for friends, men, careers, positions, etc.

Not all ladies are like this; I'm blessed to know several who aren't. But regardless of where I go or what I do, another woman is determined to compete with me. And it frustrates me.

I suppose I understand something they don't: we are all different. Every single person who wanders this earth comes from a different background, story, family. And I like that we're all different. We all have a unique view on life and that can be an asset to our relationships with others. And so the question remains: Ladies, why are we always competing with each other?

If I were to guess, I'd say it has a lot to do with our childhoods--and mainly our mothers. I'm grateful I was raised by a woman who was never interested in competing or stealing what other women had. She raised me to love everyone and to avoid the people who actively hurt me. She also taught me to love myself and appreciate that I am entirely, uniquely me, even though she often thought I was a little too loud.

I watch the way women treat other women. Their daughters--both young and grown--are watching, too. Which leads me to this point: Your daughters are watching you.

They're watching you be kind to someone's face, and then turn around and tear them down. They're watching the way you treat women who are different from you. They see you laugh at her clothes and the way she wears her hair. They see you trade kind words for harsh ones. They're watching you show favoritism to women who you believe can advance you because of their financial resources or positions while ignoring the women who can do absolutely nothing for you because you see no value in them.

They are learning how to treat other women from you.

I'm just going to be honest with you, ladies, we need to actively love each other better. I'm not saying we just need to be nicer to each other's faces--though we should always aim to be kind to each other; I'm saying we need to change our view of other women entirely so we can, in turn, change the way our daughters will view one another someday.

If you don't like someone, keep it to yourself. It's not your job to tell the world what their faults are. It's not your job to tear her down because she offended you. It's not your job to punish her. Ever.

Your job is to extend kindness to the women who offer you none so your daughter learns to offer it to everyone she comes into contact with regardless of how they treat her.

Your job is to teach your daughter that every woman has value--no matter how lowly her position in life is. Your daughter will love you for teaching her the value of being tender-hearted and she will be eternally grateful to you for helping her see the good in everyone.

Your job is to never speak ill of anyone so you will be blameless and pure in everyone's sights, including your daughter's. This is Bible truth ladies! Check out Philippians 2:14-15.

Your job is change the world one woman at a time. Start with yourself, and then encourage that change in your daughter. You have the power to affect change--so do it!

Ladies, stop competing! Let's replace any type of ill feelings towards one another with prayer and good thoughts. You can't be angry with another woman when you're communicating with the Creator about her well-being. Pray for her faith, relationships, health, strength, humility and attitude towards other women.

Prayer changes things. It changes us first, and then it changes the people around us.

Be unapologetically you. And help the women in your life to embrace who they are, too. The more we embrace one another, the less we're competing. And that's a good thing.

--Jessica

The Good Wife Chronicles: How To Build Common Interest With Your Husband

When Kelly and I first got married, we only had a few things in common. Our faith, love of road trips, life goals, and many personality traits.

But our passions--writing and web development--were very different. Our different passions have always given us an independence from one another because I have no desire to code or program and he has no desire to sit down and spend hours playing with words on a screen or sheet of paper.

In our marriage, our separate passions have always been a great experience for us. We share practically everything and go practically everywhere together, but our desks sit on opposite sides of the house and we normally separate to work on our passions.

As the years have moved forward, God has strategically used our separate passions to pull us closer to one another. Oftentimes, Kelly has to send long emails or write text for his web clients. Though I love to write long and short stories, I'm more focused on blogging now. That means we have had to merge our two passions to accomplish similar goals. It's been a beautiful experience watching our passions seamlessly flow together. And I know only God could have planned for them to collide. He knew we would each need the other's talent to further our dreams.

Our passions have expanded now that we're older. We both love to teach. We both love to work with our hands. We both love to explore with the dogs--and alone. And we do it together.

The more my husband and I have in common, the deeper our conversations become and the sweeter life itself  becomes. When we are old and frail, we're probably spend the majority of our time reminiscing about all the hours we spent in Lowe's holding hands or our trips to different cities to explore. If we didn't have a strong friendship, we probably wouldn't enjoy the time we spent together as much as we do now.

The things you have in common with your husband are an important part of your marriage because as children, careers, and life come and go, your marriage will end the same way it began, with just the two of you. If you don't have similar interests, now's the time to start working on it.

How to build common interests with your husband:

1. Pick an interest of your husband's and then ask him to help you understand it better.
My husband is a marketing whiz. He really is! He can market anything well with enough time and resources. I think marketing is interesting and needed to learn more about it to teach a class. Kelly and I spent--and still do spend--hours sitting at my computer as he showed me the basics of internet marketing. I like learning from my husband and I'm glad I found an interest of his I enjoy learning about. He also enjoys sharing with me. Your husband will enjoy sharing his passion with you, too!

2. Cultivate interests together.
I am not an adventurous person by nature, but I try very hard to be for my husband. We explore cities, national parks, new restaurants, and activities. I--who am a self-professed hater of roller coasters--will even ride roller coasters for my husband. Yes, I will subject myself to an entire day of feeling like I'm going to throw up at any moment just for him. Because I know how much he loves amusement parks and it's just one day that I sacrifice for his bliss. I also usually get a nice dinner out of it, so it's worth it for me. As we explore new adventures together, we do find things we love to do together--and some things we don't like to do. We've discovered that we love to work on house projects together. We also love to garden and take the dogs for long hikes. We like going to the lake and miniature-golfing. We have found interests--together--that we enjoy doing with one another. It's all about trial-and-error.

3. Appreciate the time you have together.
Life is busy and the older you get, the busier it will become. Regardless of the activity, you should learn to enjoy the moments you get to spend together. Life--though it may appear long--is very short. And none of us ever really know when it will be over. So, hold hands and laugh a lot. If he wants to take you to some monster truck extravaganza, GO! Feel honored that as he wants YOU sitting beside him as he engages in one of his favorite activities.

Your Wife-Friend In Christ,
Jessica

Did you like this post?

To read more of my series, The Good Wife Chronicles, check out past posts below!
When He Drives You Insane

Be His Loudest Cheerleader
Dealing With the Proverbs 31 Woman
The Soul Mate Complex

Michal's Mistakes

Lord, I Need You

I've weathered many dark storms. The kind that have brought me to my knees in distress and defeat. In my darkest hours, I have always cried out in agony, "Lord, I need YOU!" And without fail, God has helped me rise from the ashes of a broken situation.

He always, without fail, replaces a crown of beauty for those ashes. (Isaiah 61:3)

You were never meant to weather the storms of life on your own. Cry out to Jesus. Tell him you need him. Every hour. Every moment of every day. And he will replace a crown of beauty for the ashes you find yourself surrendering in.

--Jessica

Slow Down

Some days, the hours pass too quickly. Between ironing my husband's shirt before he runs out the door to work and preparing his dinner before he gets home, time slips away from me. And tomorrow's To-Do list grows longer as today's hours grow shorter.

Recently, my husband and I have been fixing up an old table. We've had to rebuild portions of the wood, sand layers of stain off, and remove years of dust--the layers of life--from it's cracks and crevices.

For the last 2 1/2 years, we have been using lawn furniture as our dining room/kitchen table. When we first started our marriage, we had bedroom furniture and a microwave that really never worked right to our name. Slowly, as the years have pressed on, God has filled our home to it's breaking point with all kinds of furniture and gadgets. But this table has always been a significant part of my kitchen. It's a reminder that we once lived off of love and nothing else. It holds the wonderful promise that God can build great things out of nothing.

One day soon, the table will make its way to the backyard where time and elements will slowly destroy it. And, eventually, we will have to part with the table where many conversations and meals--good ones and not-so-good ones--have taken place. It's use will diminish and it will no longer be the central portion of our home.

As I was outside sanding what will soon be our new table while the wind blew through the leafless trees, I was reminded that all things--people, possessions, and life--wear out over time. Sometimes, we need to slow down and enjoy the things that we may not wake up with tomorrow.

Slow down and see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

--Jessica

From California to Small Town USA: My Story

I was six years old the first time someone asked me if I believed in God. I was standing outside my first grade class in line as the boy in front of me turned around and whispered, "Jessi, do you believe in God?" I replied, "Yes," then shushed him as we began walking down the long hallway toward the computer lab.

To be honest, I can't remember a time that I didn't believe in God. I'm not sure that anyone really told me about him; I've always just known that God is real and that his home was somewhere beyond the big, blue sky. The thing is, I didn't always know God as I do now.

I grew up in a city 30 miles outside of San Diego. San Marcos was a wonderful place to grow up. I always felt safe and my parents made sure we were always involved in sports and activities. We spent summers at the beach surfing and trekked to the mountains on occasion to see the snow. From the outside, I had an idyllic childhood.

Fast forward six years. At twelve years old, we lived in a beautiful five-bedroom house. My father's hard work and perseverance had produced the American Dream. He has always been a very hard worker, smart and talented. But I suppose the American Dream wasn't all he imagined it was going to be--it wasn't all he planned it out to be.

We were standing in the garage one sunny afternoon as he was looking through a box of mementos. He pulled out an aged paper that he had written in high school. He carefully unfolded it and then started laughing. On this paper was a list of all he had hoped to accomplish by the time he was 35. Get married. Have two kids. Buy a four-bedroom house. Own his own company.

He had accomplished all of those dreams and more before he was 35. My father was successful, well-liked (for the most part) and living his American Dream. But as his laughter turned to silence, I could tell something bothered him about that list.

I look back on that day from time-to-time and wonder if him discovering that old high school memento had anything to do with the choices he would make shortly thereafter. My hard-working, talented father would give up his American Dream in pursuit of something else entirely. The specifics aren't important; what's important is his quest for something different led me to the very thing I had always needed: Jesus.

One dark night, a couple of months later, I accepted Jesus into my heart and my life was forever altered. If my father hadn't changed the course of our lives, I don't know that I would be the person I am today. I don't know if I would know Jesus as intimately as I do now. Regardless of his decisions, he gave me the greatest gift a father could ever give his daughter: faith.

Dad and me circa 1991

As the years pressed on, I grew very bitter towards my father and his choices. I hated the feeling of never being settled. I hated the feeling of never feeling like I belonged somewhere. And I hated feeling like I had lost out on so much because he took the American Dream away from me.

Many dark years followed my acceptance of Jesus into my heart. I made bad choice after bad choice. I hated the world. And the thought of ever having a family was very far from my mind. In fact, the idea of marriage repulsed me.

When I was 19 years old, I cried out to Jesus and told him I could no longer live my life the way it was going. I needed to change and I needed His help to do so. That next day, my entire life changed for the better. God sent away every bad thing in my life and used my husband--a friend who was no longer talking to me because of my bad choices--to draw me closer to him.

It took many years to learn forgiveness and even longer to make peace with the past. Marrying my husband and then a move to Oklahoma helped. God is still changing me for the better today. But I have never forgotten where my journey started all those years ago. At six years old, I knew God was real. Six years later, I would accept him into my life for good. And seven years after that, I would cry out in my darkest hour and he would rescue me. Then, he would use my life to minister to others in ways I never could have imagined.

It's been a long journey and I have weathered numerous storms. God has not always answered my prayers, but he has always comforted me when I was in need. My life is not easy, though it may appear that way sometimes. There are--and will always be--hard times to work through. But there is one thing I know beyond a shadow of a doubt: God loves me. God accepts me. God uses me for his glory day in and day out. And though I fall short, he will never abandon me.

I haven't always lived my life the way I should have. And my actions have not always reflected the person that I have become today. But I'm grateful I'm forgiven and free from the chains of anger, bitterness and resentment.

My greatest hope is that I'm living a life now that shows my father Jesus can heal broken hearts, broken relationships, and broken dreams. And that one day soon he makes a decision about his own faith.

When my father walked out the front door, he gave me an eternity in Heaven--something I am so undeserving of. I hope that one day, I can give him the same gift in return.

"A holy life will produce the deepest impression. Lighthouses blow no horns; they only shine." --D.L. Moody